


We'll Frolick and Play

by invisibledaemon



Series: 12 Days of Starmora [6]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Snow, Snow Angels, dorks playing in the snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 17:01:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12988488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/invisibledaemon/pseuds/invisibledaemon
Summary: There are a lot of things she doesn’t need, strictly speaking, but that Peter gives her anyway. Her life is better for it, she finds.Or, Peter finds out Gamora has never played in the snow before





	We'll Frolick and Play

**Author's Note:**

> 12 days of starmora day 7 - snow!

“I don’t understand how that’s an angel.”

Peter gestures again to the figure he’s made in the snow, as if it should be obvious. “Because--that’s what they’re called. It’s a snow angel.”

Gamora purses her lips, but she can see that this is important to him. “The snow part makes sense, at least,” she says charitably.

“It’s fun,” he insists. He’d said the same thing when she asked him why on earth he was flopping down into the snow and fanning his arms and legs through it. “C’mon, you try.”

“You want me to voluntarily lie down in the cold snow?”

“To make a snow angel. C’mon, ‘Mora. The whole point of this is to show you snow things, so--this is a snow thing!”

She sighs, but can’t argue. That _is_  why they’d come out here while the others are all inside the bar. Peter kept staring out the window at the falling snow, telling her how much he’d loved playing in it as a kid. Gamora asked him how one played in the snow, having never tried before; she’d seen snow many times in her life, but never had the luxury of being able to stop and really experience it.

Which settled it for Peter. He couldn’t very well let her go through life never having done so.

So, she gamely lies down in the snow next to the ‘angel’ he’d made, feeling a bit foolish at first as she repeats the fanning motions he’d done. It’s actually kind of soothing, though, once she gets over the initial ridiculousness of it.

“Fun, right?” Peter asks, tone laced with a cocky sort of satisfaction as if he’s proven a great point.

“It’s not horrible,” she says mildly, taking the hand he offers to help her up even though she doesn’t need it. There are a lot of things she doesn’t need, strictly speaking, but that Peter gives her anyway. Her life is better for it, she finds.

They look down at their creations and Gamora smiles; they are quite pretty.

“They’re holding hands!” Peter laughs.

She has to join him; it does look a bit like they’re holding hands, with the arms so close together.

“You are a sap, Peter Quill,” she says fondly.

“How dare you?” he says, clearly not actually offended. “Oh, here’s another thing I wanna show you about snow.”

He bends down with his back to her, doing something in the snow that she can’t see. When he stands back up, he turns around quickly, lobbing a snowball at her before she even has a chance to question what he’s doing.

It hits her in the shoulder. She narrows her eyes at him.

“It’s a time-honored snow tradition,” he says, grinning and backing up slowly.

“Oh, is it?” She bends down to start packing her own ball of snow. “Then I suppose I should participate.”

Peter turns around and runs, giggling like a child. She doesn’t bother to run after him; the snow slows him down, plus her arm and her aim are both strong.

“Ah!” He cries when the snow breaks against his back. “You got me!” He twirls around and clutches his chest dramatically, despite the fact that she’d hit him in the back. “I’m hit!”

“You’re ridiculous, is what you are,” Gamora says, marching up to him, her stride undeterred by the thick snow, and grabs the collar of his jacket to pull him into a kiss.

Peter, predictably, melts instantly, using a hand on her back to haul her closer.

Then he squeals when she quickly pulls the back of his shirt away and drops a handful of snow down his back.

He cries out again, but laughs and steps even closer to her instead of pulling away. “Sneaky.”

He’s sneaky too, though, because next thing she feels is a cold hand against the bare skin of her back.

“Peter!” She pulls away but she’s smiling, and he’s smiling too, even as they both reach down to grab more snow. “Haven’t you learned by now that I will always win at competitions like these?”

He smirks, preparing to hurtle a snowball at her. “I don’t learn, remember?”

She suspects that he does learn, actually, with most things, but chooses to barrel forward with them anyway. It’s one of the many things she loves about him.

“Ah, of course.” She packs her own ball of snow and smirks back. “One of your issues.”


End file.
